


How to Please an Outlaw

by K_Popsicle



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Captured, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Kink Discovery, M/M, Not Safe Sane and Consensual, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, no gag reflex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25357168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Popsicle/pseuds/K_Popsicle
Summary: When attacked by outlaws young noble Philip asks them to take him with him. He didn’t really think past that. He probably should have.
Relationships: Adventurous and Sheltered Noble/Outlaw Who Kidnaps Them, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53
Collections: Battleship 2020, Battleship 2020 - Yellow Team





	How to Please an Outlaw

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This story edges more towards non-con than dub-con, be warned.  
> 2\. Some people just don’t have a gag reflex.

Philip came with them willingly, of course, it had felt liberating and exciting when they’d been trying to decide what to do with him for him to say, “Take me with you.”

The men had all looked at each other as if in question, but their leader a board shouldered man with his face covered by a bandana and the rest of him hidden behind a hood, had looked him over and nodded.

But now they’re at their camp and the adrenaline has started to fade Philip isn’t so sure he made the smartest choice. His mother would be proud that he was learning, less proud of the way the leader pulls his mask down to show the age and scars on his face then smiles slow and predatory before pushing Philip down into the dirt at his feet.

“You know what to do, boy,” the leader instructs as he seats himself on a rotting log and spreads his legs wide to bracket Philip’s smaller body.

Philip _does_ know what to do. He’s heard the cook’s gossip, seen men with their heads under lady’s skirts, laughed and joked with his peers as they tried to piece together all the things they’d known into a seamless knowledge. It wasn’t perfect but they’d done a good job, gotten the gist of it. Philip thinks, with fear in this throat, pulse high, and a man’s thighs blocking him in, that he’d never thought he’d put any of it into practice until his wedding day. Hadn’t thought he’d have the chance with his chaperone and warden. But here he is, and here is the leader of these outlaws, wearing a ring he’d taken from Philip’s own guard’s hand and looking like a lord amongst his men.

He shuffles forward on his knees and the men around them, watching, break into laugher.

“Eager,” the leader approves and cups the back of Philips head to draw him in quicker. Philip hurries to comply.

He’s useless here, he knows it, he knew it when he asked to be taken. Useless in the real world where dangers come from every direction. But this? He thinks he can do this. He wants to do this. If he doesn’t do this, he thinks they might realise exactly how useless he is and cut their losses.

“Do you have a name?” He asks the leader politely, and the leader’s laugh is echoed by his men.

“You need to know a man’s name before you have his cock in you?” he’s asked in return.

Philip wets his lips, and the hand on the back of his head press him closer.

“Call me Sir,” is his instructions, and Philip feels a spike of fear and excitement jolt through him and settle in his cock. He didn’t expect that. He’s barely had a shadow of time to himself his whole life. His family had only just decided he no longer needed his chaperone and he’d been thriving without constant supervision, thinking about all those things his friends and he discussed. And now he’s here with an older man sitting before him waiting to use him for pleasure. He doesn’t think he should be this excited.

“Sir,” he repeats, and it rolls off his tongue neatly and easily but the fingers in his hair tighten and he knows he has to do more than just say pretty words, he knows more is expect of him. “If I may?” He reaches his hands up. There’s dirt on them from the ground, from falling earlier and the trek to the camp. He brushes the dirt away so as not to dirty the leader’s pants.

He gets a laugh in reply, one of the men behind him says, “Oh he’s sweet, can I have him next?” and the leader snaps back a fierce, “Shut up,” before the crowd can get any more rowdy.

Philip swallows against the idea that they’re looking, that they’re _waiting_ and waits for the leader’s nod before he reaches up and unlaces the worn leather pants. The leader’s cock is flaccid but girthy and Philip takes a breath before he draws it out and puts his mouth around it.

The outlaws behind him throw up a cheer, and the leader’s fingers tighten painfully. “Good boy,” he’s told, and Philip knows he hasn’t done anything much yet, but he feels the thrill of success. Encouraged he sucks on the warm flesh feeling as it starts to become heavier against the cushion of his tongue. He’s not actually entirely sure of what to do, but he’s not required to know it seems, because the leader uses the grip on his hair like a handle and draws him away then back in along his length, back and forth, using him to reach his own pleasure. The rhythm draws him in and Philip obeys the guiding motions happy to be led. There is something to repetitive task that always eases his mind.

“He feel good boss?” One of the men ask, and Philip jolts in surprise at the intrusion, eyes opening from where they’d sunk closed, and the leader makes an annoyed noise and pulls him in harder, faster. Philip feels the press of the older man’s cockhead against the back of his throat. He makes a noise of surprise at the intrusion but his throat opens easily. The man above him immediately pulls him all the way off his cock to tilt his head back and look down into his face.

It’s the first time Philip’s looked up since this started, keeping his focus locked on the task he was expected to do. Now he’s looking up into the leader’s face, panting for breath, jaw aching and staring at the roughened features. The leader is at least twice his age, somewhere closer to 40 maybe, he’s thick and muscled like the guards they hire when they need valuables transported. Like the extra guards they didn’t hire this time because there’d been nothing valuable on their carriage except for him. He reminds Philip of the stablemaster who used to threaten to whip him if he caught him feeding the horses again, or his chaperone’s brother who’d come to visit a few times and smiled at Philip like he knew things Philip was desperate to learn but too shy to ask for. His red faced like Philip must be, has a scar running down the outside of his cheek, another on the other side under his eye, and a few grey hairs in his long hair. He looks like he’s seen battles and won them all.

“Sir?” He asks, unsure what he’s done wrong, and the leader huffs out a smile and pulls him up to his lips. Philip thinks he should do something about the cock still between them, thick and wet from his own mouth but he goes here he is bid. Cannot risk not doing so.

“You’ve done this before,” the leader murmurs as he takes one kiss and then another. Pliant in his hold Philip tries to kiss back, but has little control of when the kisses will happen. He is forced to wait for what is given to him.

“Never, sir,” he breathes.

“How far can you take me? Do you suppose? How deep until you choke on it?” The leader asks thoughtfully, and Philip isn’t entirely sure what he means until one of those big hands wraps around his throat a callous rough thumb stroking the delicate line of it.

“Sir?” He questions cautiously, he has an idea, yes, but he’s not sure what’s been suggested is entirely possible. Those stories never reached his ears if they were about.

“Do you want to try?” The leader asks, and licks a line up his check to below his eye as if tasting something there, “or shall we move on? Though, I’ll be disappointed,” the leader adds as an afterthought, “and once I’m disappointed…” he looks past Philip to the rest of the camp.

Philip has enough motion to twist his head to look there as well. There are men, a lot of men, watching them. Some have their cocks out, stroking lazily as they stare at him, some haven’t gone that far but Philip can see they’re hard in their pants. Some pay no attention to the proceedings, bored already. The implication is clear, Philip might be useless with many things, but he understands what’s being suggested. He turns back to face the leader, and although he feels overwhelmed and crushed under the fear of his situation he says bravely, “I don’t want to disappoint you, sir.” The idea of being a disappointment, of failing this task seems more horrible than being handed off to the group of men to be used as they please.

His words do the trick though, convince the leader to keep him to himself for now, and he’s pushed back down between those thick muscled legs and the leader holds him still to feed his cock back into his willing mouth. Then with no preamble the leader trusts his hips forwards hitting the back of Philips throat in a way that makes him recoil in surprise. But he can’t recoil far because there are fingers holding his head in place, pulling and pushing him where the leader wants, and so he forces himself to breath, to cling to the leather by his head, and to take every inch the leader pushes down his throat bit by bit as he makes a space for himself I Philip’s throat.

When the whole length is down there, his body bowed to make it easier, the leader holds still, and Philip can do nothing but convulsively swallow around the intrusion again and again, until he needs to breath and has to push against the other man to try and free himself. Only when he starts to feel the panic overcome him, when he gets his fist and tries to hit the thigh next to him is he released. With a gasping breath he drags himself off and pushes himself away, gulping in desperate lungfuls of air as fast as he can, until he realises he’s free, no fingers in his hair, no-one holding him in place and a campfull of men still staring at him, waiting.

He realises what he’s done in his haste. “Sorry!” He stumbles, “Sir, sir. Sorry.” He hurriedly crawls back into place, head low, and swallows down the heavy length once more, working it in and out enthusiastically until he can worm it back down his throat a little at a time, pulling off to breath and going back again. Peppering in apologies and kisses as he goes, desperate to be forgiven for not doing well enough.

The leader laughs again, takes control of Philip’s head once more, and sets a faster rougher pace, a pace that’s shallower, but plunges in and out relentlessly and Philip takes it, breaths when he can, and stares up at the leader’s face watching the pinch of his expression. Then he’s drawn back on a hard thrust that embeds the entire cock inside him. He holds still, takes it, waits as the leader makes a noise like a wounded horse, and swallows down what he knows is the leaders release as it spills into him, working it down before he can choke on it. Then he’s let go.

He slides of the softening dick in his throat, body oozing to the floor so he can catch his breath, catch his bearings. He feels soft and accomplished, something he’s never felt before

Philip’s not sure what will happen next, everything is muffled and hazy as he waits for further instructions. How long passes he does not know, but the leader gets up and steps over him, and when he returns no-one has moved in to touch him. Instead the leader puts a drink beside his head says, “Good job, boy,” which jolts pleasantly through Philip. Then standing over him the leaders tells his crew, “No-one else touches him,” then, “he’s mine for now.”

“Thank you, sir,” Philip says though his voice is strained and rough from misuse. He pulls himself up and takes a sis of his drink while a few men finish each other off. The rest have lost interest except for three men not too far away that are fucking each other. Philip watches them desperate to learn everything he can as fast as he can because he knows the difference between today and tomorrow will be how well pleased his leader is with him, and he wants, very much, to keep the man happy.


End file.
